Old Promises
by jedidah
Summary: Just someting I threw together in the dark despair of boredom.


Old Promises

Have fun. I was bored, as usual.

Chapter 1

A lithe figure prowled around the stone fortress. Her hands stroked the cold stones as she looked up at one of the windows. A light was flickering, a weak light. Probably from a dying candle she guessed. Well at least she knew someone was awake, which coincided perfectly with her plans. She removed her shoes and slid them into the bag over her shoulder. Then she grabbed some of the vines that hung down the side of the old stone fortress. She began climbing. She prayed she had tied the boat correctly and it wouldn't float away.

Her small feet scrabbled into any cracks in the wall she could manage to find. She had fine features that were quite wasted on a peasant. Her hair was blonde with a faint shading of brown highlighting her hair in the sunlight and in the moonlight her hair shone like water. Her wide blue eyes took in everything as she stopped to rest halfway to her destination. Her pants were dark and blended with the wall, but the white shirt she wore showed up quite plainly.

Her breathe came in short gasps. And sweat trickled down her back as she continued her grueling climb. She finally made it to the one window which wasn't barred. Well it looked barred but it wasn't really. A friend of hers had seen to that. She clambered through the window and dropped into a pile of old musty straw. She sneezed as some flew up into her nose and winced as she realized she had scraped her knee on the stone.

Well getting in was easy the hard part would be getting out, especially with a passenger. She sighed, why did she make promises?

She crossed to the heavy wooden door and threaded piece of thin wire into the lock. She began jiggling it up and down waiting for the tell tale click. Ah, there it was. She opened the door cautiously praying the guards hadn't changed the hours when they wander the halls on patrol. They hadn't.

She crept silently down the halls, keeping to the shadows and ducking into corridors all the while making no noise. Her nickname of the Sprite was well earned. She had always been able to tread silently becoming what she was had been no great trial.

Soon she came to the door. She knocked three times. There was no answer. She threaded the piece of wire through the keyhole and began the careful procedure of unlocking the door. Once it opened she slid inside warily her hand slipping to the dagger thrust into her belt.

"Philippe are you here?" Her voice echoed around the draughty room.

"Who are you?" A low voice asked. She heard movement to her left and turned accordingly.

"Don't you remember me Philippe? It's me Ro." Her voice was soft and she spoke as she would to a wild frightened animal. "Your old cellmate; I promised I'd come back for you and now I have."

"Ro yes I remember." The voice was softer now almost like her tone. But with an edge of cunning she wasn't certain she could trust. But she had made a promise to help him escape and if he had gone mad in the four years it had taken her to concoct and carry out her plan, well that wasn't her fault.

"Come on we have to go." She held out her hand and was rewarded with his hand slipping into hers.

She led him out of the cell and back to her entrance and their soon to be exit. She reached into her pack and pulled out a long rope which she tied to part of the part of the windows bars that hadn't been sawed off. She climbed out first and looked back at the masked face. "Will you at least try to climb the rope, or do I need to carry you?"

He didn't answer instead he clambered out and held onto the rope for dear life. As they began their descent his feet slid out from under him several times and he hit the wall heavily. Ro tried to muffle her laughter, but could not.

Once they reached the ground she retrieved her shoes from her pack and pulled them on over her dirty stockings. She motioned for Philippe to get into the boat then she pushed off. As her feet splashed in the water she jumped into the boat and turned to look back at the prison.

"Catch us if you can!" Her voice rang out clear and shrill on the night air.

Philippe clapped a hand over her mouth and hissed. "Quiet do you want them to know I'm gone?"

She shoved his hand away and withdrew to the other side of the boat muttering sullenly. "Does it matter? In an hour they'll know anyway. So why not tell them now?"

When his only reply was a frosty silence Ro stuck her tongue out at him and grabbed an oar. She rowed strongly and soon had the boat headed for shore. The surf drenched them as she pulled the boat into land. She frowned when Philippe took his own sweet time in getting out of the boat. Once his feet touched the damp sand Ro was pulling him up a hill and down to where two horses were waiting patiently. One had a saddle but the other only had a bridle thrown over his dark back. She jumped onto the back of the horse without a saddle and waited for Philippe to clamber onto his horse. To her surprise he got on with no trouble and was soon waiting for her to begin their flight into the darkness.

A nagging doubt in the back of her mind was telling her this was not Philippe, but Ro ignored it. She kept telling herself she was just nervous about seeing him again. She moved her dagger to where she could reach it more easily if she needed to just in case. She glanced over her shoulder and saw a light bobbing after them, it was reflected in the dark water and she could hear shouts behind her carried faintly by the wind. She kicked her horse and passed Philippe as she shouted to him, "If you don't hurry I shall leave you behind."

He spurred his horse on and soon they were racing side by side across the open fields of the French country side. Ro threw her head back and laughed as the wind tugged at her hair, but she'd firmly fixed it in a bun and it stayed. She watched Philippe out of the corner of her eye. He was riding with an ease and skill that surprised her. He sat on the horse as if the last time he had been riding hard was only a few days before, not nearly ten years before.

Her eyes narrowed and she loosened her dagger a little more.

Once they reached the small town Ro reined in her horse and waited for Philippe to follow her example. They rode a little farther and she stopped in front of a small inn. She swung down from her horse and sauntered around the side of the building and heard Philippe's horse following her. She stabled her horse and did the same for his and watched as he stroked the horse's face tenderly.

Ro smiled and stepped to his side. She touched his arm and he swung round, an angry gleam in his eyes. Before she could react he backhanded her across the mouth. Ro fell to the filth ridden ground. She gasped at the shock and felt her warm blood in her mouth and on her jaw. She struggled to get up as Philippe went down on his knees atop her and wrapped his right hand around her throat. Then his eyes cleared and he rolled off her. Ro sat up and rubbed her throat.

She said, "Come on, I have a friend who can get that mask off."

She headed for the inn and knocked twice on the back door. It was opened by a tall man with strong arms and a white mustache. He grinned and wrapped his arms around Ro as he exclaimed. "My dear little Sprite, you have returned to me."

She wriggled out of his arms as she grinned at him, "It's good to see you to Jean. This is my friend the one I told you about."

She stepped aside and allowed Philippe to go inside. A table stood in the middle of the large kitchen and a fireplace was in the left wall. A door was in the right side of the wall and Ro could see a few people sitting in the front room. Jean shut the door behind them and locked it carefully. He turned back to Philippe and took his face in both hands. He turned the masked face back and forth as he inspected the mask. Then he nodded and said, "It'll take some time but I can do it. But for a small fee, of course."

Ro grinned and dug into her belt. She pulled out a small pouch and tossed it onto the table. Jean's eyes gleamed as he opened the bag and looked at its contents. He looked at Ro and said, "But this is too much."

She shrugged. "It's not enough considering all you did for me four years ago."

Jean gave a loud laugh and patted her shoulder. Ro winced and moved to one side as Jean went to the fireplace and pulled a stone out of joint. He pulled out a small chisel, hammer and a saw. He turned to Philippe and gave a manic smile. He motioned to a small chair near the fireplace and said, "Take a seat, O masked one."

Philippe complied and took his seat. Jean moved to his side and began hacking at the side of the mask with the chisel. R o winced and decided to take a walk. As she left she heard Philippe swear and heard the sound of a punch being landed. She walked around the inn once and then sat down on the back step of the inn's doorway and waited. She heard a few loud yells and winced.

Nearly two hours later Jean opened the back door and said, "You can come in now. I've given him a shave so he looks human now."

She complied and went inside. Philippe was sitting by the table and was looking at himself in the mirror. She looked closely at him and she felt a blush sweep her cheeks. He was beautiful. His hair brushed a bit below his shoulders dark brown and thick. His skin was smooth and he was almost baby faced. His eyes were even bluer now than they had been before when they were hidden by the shadow of the masks eyeholes. He was older than Ro had thought he would be mid-twenties at least. She blushed a little redder and turned to Jean, "Thank you."

Jean winked at her and said roguishly. "There's nothing I wouldn't do for my little Sprite. Oh I fixed you a room, third door on the left." He winked at the man and said, "I made sure the bed was clean."

Ro's face flamed red and she glared at Jean. He laughed again and wandered out into the front of the inn to serve some of his customers she supposed. Ro shut her eyes and headed up the back stairs. She heard Philippe behind her. She opened the third door on the left and stepped inside the small dimly lit room. It had a bed in one corner of the room and a window in the opposite wall. She stepped toward the window and glanced out into the dark street. Nothing was stirring. She shut the curtains and stepped away from the window. She unfastened her belt, but slipped her dagger into the side of her pants, and tossed the belt onto the floor as she turned to Philippe. "We should be safe until the morning. The guards will search towns closer to the prison before they come here. We'll leave at first light."

She sat on the floor and pulled off first one boot then the other. She watched as Philippe sat down, tentatively, on the bed and touched it carefully. He spoke quietly, "It's been so long since I saw a real mattress."

Ro laughed and stood up. "Well don't worry about that. Soon you'll have seen so many mattresses you'll be wishing you were back in that cell on a bed made of straw."

He gave her a disbelieving look. She smiled as she sat next to him on the soft bed and rested her elbows on her knees as she put her chin in her hands. She looked at him sideways and said, "Are you alright? You're acting a little odd?"

He shrugged and asked his own question. "How old are you, Ro?"

She shook her head, "Seventeen going on eighteen."

He nodded to himself and stiffened when he heard footsteps pass outside the door. Ro stood and walked to the door. She turned the key in the lock and said, "It's alright Philippe you're safe."

He scoffed at her, "Safe, I'm not safe anywhere in France."

"Then you can leave France and go somewhere else. England maybe or Austria, though I hear Spain is nice this time of year." Ro laughed as she spoke and was surprised by the venomous look that was thrown in her direction. She raised her hands in surrender. "Alright we can create a new identity for you and you can stay in France."

He got up and paced around the room. He muttered to himself in a language she couldn't understand. Then he turned to her and asked, "Are you loyal to the king?"

Ro wrinkled her brow, "That's an odd question." She thought for a moment. "I suppose I am, I don't agree with everything he does and I think he can be a bit of a fool but I don't think the people are right in uprising." She cocked an eyebrow. "Was that the correct answer?"

He muttered in the foreign language again and Ro rolled her eyes and waited for him to stop ranting. She finally had had enough and stood up. She stepped up to him and took his arm. He looked at her with the confused expression of a child and allowed her to lead him to the bed. She pushed him onto the bed and made him lie down. She pushed aside some of his hair and said, "Philippe, what's wrong? You can tell me."

He brought a hand up and stroked her cheek. Ro was tempted to jerk away but she stayed still and allowed him to continue stroking her cheek. His hand strayed to her hair and he twisted the free strands around his fingers. He pulled her head forward a little and pulled at the string that kept her hair in the bun. He pulled it loose and her hair tumbled down around her face and down her back brushing just above her hips. He tugged at the longer strands and smiled childishly. Then he pulled her head down and kissed her, hard.

He grabbed the back of her neck and twisted their positions so that he was the one sitting above her. Ro struggled and writhed but he was much stronger than she. She freed her mouth for a moment and was about to call for help when he leaned toward her and caught her lips in a harsh kiss. He bit her lower lip and drew blood. She opened her mouth at the pain and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside her mouth. Ro writhed even more wildly but it only served to make him tighten his grip, slap her hard and press his lips more roughly against her own. His teeth scraped against hers and she gave a muffled yelp. She gasped for breath when he pulled away from her. He looked down at her and stroked her cheek softly and his other hand stroked her throat. "How does a lovely child like you end up in a place like that?"

"How do you end up in Philippe's cell? And how do you come to wear his mask?" Ro tightened her muscles and again tried to struggle free. He slapped her again, kissed her once more and slipped his hand down her throat to her chest. She stiffened and struggled, using her movements to disguise her true intent.

She grasped the dagger in the side of her pants and pulled it free. She stabbed the man in side. His blood gushed and stained her blade, her clothes and her skin. He howled and released her. She thrust him from her and stood. He groaned as he also stood and faced her.

"Who are you and where's Philippe?" Ro tried to sound forceful as she spoke but in truth she was more than a little frightened. She trembled as she held the blade toward him, memories flitting unbidden through her mind. Another night long ago, another dagger stained with blood.

He groaned, "I apologize. I was wrong. I-"

He toppled to the ground and lay still. Ro licked the blood from her lip and stared at him. She shook her head and went over to him and knelt down. She rolled him onto his back and lifted up his ragged shirt. She shook her head and ripped his shirt. She pulled the strip loose and wrapped it around the wound. She stopped the bleeding and then looked at his pale face. She said in a low voice, "I will help you but if you ever do that again I will kill you."

He nodded and stayed still as she went about dressing his wound with strips of cloth she ripped from his shirt. She stood up and said, "Go and lie on the bed."

He complied and she sat on the floor beside him. She cocked her head on one side and said, "I want to know who you are really. I know you aren't Philippe. So who are you really?"

He refused to speak and she narrowed her eyes. A few minutes passed and she shook her head and lay down in the corner of the far side of the room. She brought her knees up against her chest and dropped into an uneasy sleep.

She woke to absolute chaos. Screams came from downstairs and the sound of horses whinnying could be heard from outside. She stood up and looked around. Instantly she realized what was wrong. The man was gone. She ran down the stairs holding her knife firmly. Downstairs in the kitchen plates were smashed, the table was overturned and the fire was raging in more than the fireplace. She started to put out the fire and cried out as her hands were scorched.

She ran to the back door and stumbled over a prone form lying in the doorway. She turned and saw Jean. He lay still and Ro saw the knife that jutted out of his chest. She dropped to her knees beside him and her mouth opened in a small anguished cry.

She knelt there for a few moments and realized her pants were stained with Jean's blood. She stood up and walked outside. She stood in the moonlight for a few moments and closed her eyes as she held back tears. She heard a noise behind her and turned quickly.

Jean's sister, Marie, stood behind her. Ro remembered her vividly. She'd tried to make Jean throw Ro back out in the street but Jean would not. He let her stay the whole winter and helped her in many other ways. But Marie had never even tried to tolerate her. Ro stood still and tense as she waited for Marie to speak.

Marie began in a harsh voice. "Witch, you killed him."

Ro opened her mouth to protest but Marie cut her off by starting to scream. Ro heard the sound of running feet and realized that she had to leave. She ran to the stable and grabbed her horse. She swung onto the horse's back and kicked the horse into a swift canter. She rode past Marie and realized she'd left her boots in her room along with her belt. She slipped her dagger into the waistband of her pants. She rode on and felt the cool air brush her cheeks.

She also felt angry tears slipping down her cheeks. She swore silently that she would kill the man who had been in the iron mask.

Nearly three weeks after the events at the inn Ro pulled her horse to a stop and looked down at the city. She'd been to Paris before but she remembered it being much bigger. She urged her horse forward and was soon inside the gates. She glanced around at the streets and the people. The streets were dirtier than she remembered and so were the people. They looked at her hard and hungrily. She grasped her dagger and stared back levelly.

She rode on until she reached one of the main streets. There was a huge crowd and she reined in her horse. She leaned over a little and asked a girl standing near her, "What's happening?"

The girl replied. "The king's going through."

Ro raised an eyebrow and watched the road avidly. She stiffened and her breath hitched when she caught sight of the king. It was the boy from the inn. She shook her head that wasn't possible. She sat there for a few moments. Trying to decipher what had happened. Then she smiled. She was just going to have to find out from the king himself.


End file.
